


Prompts

by Clarisse (transnymphtaire)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Tags are written in the summary for each prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:02:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 52
Words: 17,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7276444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transnymphtaire/pseuds/Clarisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes I manage to get prompts on Tumblr, and I thought that I should share them here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. "Don’t listen to them. Don’t you EVER listen to them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from strangesoulmates  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Angst, Broken Engagement

“Don’t listen to them. Don’t you **ever** listen to them.”

Harry continued to stare at nothing, as he ignored Tom in favor of trying to forget what had just happened. It was not every day that your fiance’s grandparents told you that you don’t deserve their grandson, and that you’re just a gold digging whore. Never mind the fact that they hadn’t known about Tom up until a few months ago, while Harry and Tom had been together for four years.

“I’m uninviting them to the wedding.” Tom continued, as he was determined to do everything right.

“Don’t.” Harry spoke up from where he was sat. “Your father will be upset. He’s really trying to make up for lost time, and you know that they’ll keep him from going if you uninvite them.”

“Yes, well, he’s also the one that asked my mother to abort in the first place and then proceeded to never find out what happened to me.” Tom waved his concern away. Harry’s eyes found their focus on Tom, who was pacing back and forth.

“He was also 18 and not ready to be a father.” Harry pointed out.

“Oh, so you’re taking his side now?” Tom asked, his tone just the right shade of scandalized.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it!”

“What did you mean then?”

“Only that you should give your father a chance, and if that means sucking up to your grandparents, then so be it.”

“Perhaps they were right, you sound a lot like a gold digger right now.” Tom’s voice was poisonous. Harry stood up and stepped towards Tom, a temperamental fire in his green eyes.

“I am not a gold digger, and you know it. Don’t sink to their level only because I don’t agree with you about your father.”

“Perhaps I’m not the Tom Riddle that you want.” Tom spat out. “My father is single. You can marry him. This engagement is over.”

“Tom!” Harry called, but it was too late. Tom had already left the room. Harry was in too much shock to run after him. They’ve had fights before, especially about Tom’s relatives, but never like this. Harry sunk to his knees as Tom’s words replayed in his mind.

Their engagement couldn’t really be broken… could it?


	2. “Please, put it DOWN.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Angst, Delusional Episode, Minor Violence

“Please, put it **down**.”

Tom kept his eyes on the bloodied knife that Harry was holding with two hands. It was barely noticeable, but he could see the telltale signs of Harry’s hands shaking, which combined with the blown pupils correctly told him that Harry was having a delusional episode.

“Harry.” Tom said softly. He was holding up his hands in front of him, both in an attempt to placate Harry and to show that he was unarmed. Harry’s shaking had started to spread from his hands to his arms.

“You stay away from me!” Harry screamed. “Don’t get any closer, Voldemort!”

Tom obediently stayed in place. Ever since Harry’s parents died, Harry had been having episodes where he mistook Tom for some monster named Voldemort. Tom tried to be a good, patient boyfriend, but lately the episodes had started to get worse. This wasn’t the first time that Harry had gotten his hands on a weapon, but it was the first time that Tom couldn’t get close enough to unarm him.

Harry let go of the knife with one hand and started to swing it wildly. His now free hand was gripping his hair tightly, as if to ground himself with pain. It was a paradoxical contrast.

Against his self-preservation instincts and better knowledge, Tom stepped closer. He needed to knock the knife from Harry’s hand, _now_. After taking a deep breath to steady himself, Tom reached out to knock the knife away. Harry reacted, and Tom barely had time to grip his wrist. As they started to fight over the knife, Tom stepped closer to use his height to his advantage. Harry was a lot stronger than he looked.

Tom was trying to point the knife-edge away from them, at the same time as Harry tried to stab him. It pointed in all possible directions as they fought.

Then suddenly there was a scream, and blood.


	3. "What happened doesn't change anything."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Sirius/Remus
> 
> Tags: Angst, Canon Compliant, Chocolate Frogs

“What happened doesn’t change anything.”

Remus took a deep breath to collect himself. This was the umpteenth time that Sirius had tried to talk about what happened with Snape during the last full moon. Remus was beyond tired of repeating the same conversations. It didn’t matter what excuses or arguments that Sirius came with, it had happened, and it changed everything.

“He could have died.” Remus started quietly, his voice filling the empty dorm room. “I could have killed him. You almost made me a murderer.”

“Snivellus would have gone after you even if I didn’t tell him how!”

“You don’t know that.”

There was a sigh and then a thump as Sirius dramatically threw himself on James’ the bed, the one closest to Remus’ own.

“He would.” Sirius said, his voice barely there. Remus doubted he would have heard if he weren’t a werewolf.

“You don’t know that.” Remus repeated. He opened the drawer in his bedside table and got out a couple of chocolate frogs to munch on. James and Peter could come up in the dorm room any minute, yet Sirius didn’t seem willing to drop the subject.

“I love you.” Sirius said softly, and turned so that he was facing Remus. “I would never make you into a murderer.”

“Then why did you do it? Why did you tell Snape how to get past the Whomping Willow?” Remus asked, his tone just as soft. He opened a chocolate frog, and threw the card at Sirius out of habit. He had never got into collecting them as he knew the rest of his friends did.

“Because I thought he would mistake the truth for a lie, and leave you alone.” Sirius confessed. Remus bit the head off the chocolate frog before it could jump away from him.

“But he didn’t, and now he knows what I am. Even if I still love you, even if I forgive you, things _have changed_ , because of _you_.”

“I’m sorry.” Sirius whispered. Remus could hear the true sorrow in the words, but he could also hear James and Peter walking towards the room. He took another bite off the chocolate frog.

“What card did you get?” Remus asked, just in time for James to open the door.


	4. "Please come get me."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (asexualsiriusblack)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Angst, Car Accident

“Please come get me.”

Tom pressed the phone closer against his ear to hear Harry over the loud background noise. He could hear cars honking and a siren of some sort. Tom was up and walking towards the door as soon as he realized what situation Harry most likely was in.

“I’m on my way. What happened? Where are you? Are you okay?” The questions rolled off his tongue as he pressed the elevator button. His coworkers were asking where he was going, but Tom ignored them in favor of Harry.

“There was-” Harry started. Tom could hear his voice shaking, even over the bad connection. “There was a car crash.”

“Are you okay?” Tom stressed the words again. The elevator doors opened, and Tom was inside and pressing the ground floor button before they had had time to open fully.

“Just shaky.” Harry answered. Tom recognized it as a lie instantly, and pressed the ground floor button again. He couldn’t leave fast enough.

“I’m coming as fast as I can.” Tom promised. The elevator finally started to move. “Can you describe where you are?”

“At the crossing-” A loud honk cut off the rest of what Harry was saying. “-the car crash just happened, I don’t think the other drivers have realized yet. I can see a car speeding in this direction.”

“Just stay safe.” Tom asked. He glared at the sign that showed which floor he was on, as the numbers changed too slowly for his liking.

“I’m on the sidewalk, there shouldn’t be any risk.” Harry reassured him. It didn’t make Tom feel any better.

“It’s better if you go into a store-” Tom was cut off as the sound of screeching tires suddenly came from Harry’s end, followed by screams and a loud noise as Harry’s phone landed on the ground.

“Harry?” Tom called into the phone. “ _Harry? HARRY?!_ ”

There wasn’t any answer. The elevator doors opened. He had reached the ground floor.


	5. "You don't have to stay."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from darklordtomarry  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Illegal Activity, Cliffhanger

“You don’t have to stay.”

The words were said matter-of-factly, and it was clear to Harry that Tom fully expected him to leave. He would have too, but he didn’t want to prove Tom right by leaving.

“I’m staying.” Harry answered stubbornly, fully aware that this would infuriate Tom.

“A moment ago you were disgusted, and now you’re staying?”

Harry glanced from Tom’s face, down to where Tom’s bloodied arms were halfway immersed in an almost dead body.

“Someone has to make sure that there are enough ice for the organs.”

“Don’t you start again. There are money to be made on the black market, you know this.” Tom sighed, and went back to what he was doing.

“My dad works in the police.”

“Yet you’re dating me instead of handing me over. Go fetch that ice you mentioned.”

Harry obediently left the room. When he felt that Tom no longer would hear him, he took out his phone. With a deep breath to steady himself, Harry called his dad.

He didn’t hear Tom come up behind him until it was too late.


	6. "What is blood when I only see beauty?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Alive Merope, Time Travel AU, Riddle's Era

_What is blood when I only see beauty?_

It was an expression that his mother had told Tom whenever he expressed his feelings about his Muggle father. He could never understand how Merope could say so about someone that had abandoned them; then again, she did say a lot of silly things. Now - at the age of sixteen - Tom could see some merit to the saying.

Evan James had suddenly transferred into fifth year during the yule break and gotten sorted into Slytherin; making him Tom’s classmate. The boy had a muggle name and muggle upbringing to boot; Tom had long rid himself of the name Riddle in favor of his mother’s maiden name. No one doubted that a Gaunt was anything but pureblood; he felt no need to correct them.

He had simply ignored James at first, assumed that the boy had no magical merit worth speaking of. Then he had seen the younger boy in a duel; James was beautiful - like a righteous god. Which brought them here.

Tom had James pushed up against the wall in the otherwise empty Defense classroom. He had managed to get the boy to stay behind by using a simple sticking jinx; it was almost a let down how easy it had been. Any disappointment he may had felt vanished at the fire in James’ eyes as he struggled to get away. Tom smiled in amusement and anticipation.

He didn’t expect it when a fist hit his chin. The force made him take a few steps back; Tom almost tripped over his robe. The look in his eyes was almost predatorily as he watched James leave the classroom in a whirlwind of wild magic. Yes, what did blood matter when there was such beauty in power?


	7. Belly dancer AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Belly dancing, First Meeting

There are certain parts of town that Tom makes sure to avoid.

He does not enjoy being around those that he perceive as lesser than him; which technically are everyone but especially the poor and the homeless. More often than not immigrants and beggars belong in those two categories, and he generalize more often than not. Therefore he goes out if his way to avoid those areas of the city.

Yet there’s where he finds himself.

He is not sure what made him walk to the park hidden away in between decaying buildings. Perhaps the odd advice he got by an old man that he walked past; perhaps the sound of music that was playing from within the park. No matter the reason Tom followed the music to its source.

There was a few pallets placed in the heart of the park, cardboard taped to them to make a stage. An old cassette player - and wasn’t that the rarest thing - was responsible for the music.

Tom glanced around. There was a surprisingly big crowd in front of the makeshift stage, consisting mostly of children. A hat turned upside down rested on the ground in front of the stage. It was home to some coins and the odd banknote.

Lastly his eyes went to the person dancing on stage.

He was momentarily distracted by the brilliant white owl that flew around the person; it took him a moment to take in what was happening.

There was a young man on stage, dressed in emerald green pants with flowing, almost sheer fabric and a tight, open vest with the same emerald green colour but another fabric; this was embroidered with silver and gold. To top the costume off, the young man was wearing a belt of decorative circular plates in silver and gold, overlapping each other like the scales on a snake. His arms was jeweled with ornate bracelets, in silver, gold and black leather; a necklace of twisted leather with soundless gold bells and silver rings decorated his throat. The costume and jewelry contrasted brilliantly with dark skin; it reminded him of terracotta with its brownish orange colour and warm orange-red undertones.

Tom let his gaze wander from the man’s bare feet to a pair of brilliant emerald eyes framed by silk-looking black curls. They man was looking right at him for a split movement before the moment of the danced forced their eyes away from each other.

He continued to study the man in detail; the long, black eyelashes stood out all the more thanks to the use of eyeliner and silver eye shadow. False emeralds were glued underneath the left eye. The skin was free from blemishes; there didn’t seem to be any make-up covering unpleasant marks.

The man had golden piercings; a septum ring, a labret ring, spider bites on the right side in form of two small balls, and a bellybutton piercing with chains that went around his waist, small emeralds hanging from them.

His eyes went lower, mesmerized by the movements of the man’s hips. Tom hadn’t fully realized now that the dance was belly dancing; he did not have much knowledge about such things.

As his eyes went back up to the dancer’s face, he realized that the owl was partaking in the dance; following the man’s movements flawlessly. It was not a performance that belonged on a makeshift stage in a hidden away park; it was a performance that belonged on a real stage with dramatic lightning and stereo music.

Tom found himself staying until the cassette had stopped. He did not partake in the applause.

He stood in place on the outskirts of the crowd until the crowd had disappeared. First then he moved forward. The dancer watched him with curious eyes as Tom took a few banknotes from his wallet and dropped them in the hat. Their eyes met when he straightened again.

“I enjoyed your dancing, mr…?”

“Harry. Just Harry.” the young man answered. His voice was like the sound of fire during a cold winter night. Tom smiled politely.

“Mr Just Harry, then.”

The man - no, Harry - gave a weak smile. A nervous giggle escaped him as well. Tom found it remarkably endearing. The picture was completed by the owl that had taken up residence on Harry’s shoulder.

“May I interest you in a business proposal?” Tom asked. He was appalled at the impulsive fashion of his question.

“May I know your name?” Harry countered. Tom gave a small nod, an acknowledgement of his lack of manners.

“I apologise. Tom Riddle, at your service.”

“What’s this business proposal about, Mr Riddle?”

“Could I hire you to perform for me and a group of my business associates?” Tom asked. He had nothing in mind that would make use of such entertainment but he felt reluctant to let Harry go.

“I’m not for hire.” Harry answered promptly and moved to pick his hat up in a fluid movement. Tom blinked, surprised at being refused something.

“It would be more lucrative than dancing here.”

“The earn perhaps, but not the crowd.”

“Let me leave you my business card in case you change your mind.” Tom forced out, the words polite although he felt frustrated with the lack of cooperation. He had expected Harry to be overwhelmed with graciousness at his offer.

“I can’t stop you from leaving it.” Harry answered with a shrug. The owl nipped at his ear, most likely disturbed by the movement. Tom withheld a frustrated sigh and took out his wallet once more. He was quick to fish out a business card and drop it into the hat, which Harry was still holding.

“I hope to hear from you.” Tom said and gave one last charming smile before turning around, ready to leave.

“Can I only contact you about business?” Harry called. Tom faltered in his step and turned his head to see that the man had an amused but expectant look at his face.

“I would not be averse to pleasure instead of business, Harry.” Tom answered. His lips hinted at a smile before he turned back and left for real.

A hoot and Harry’s laughter followed him as he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone would draw fanart of this, I would be forever thankful. (I can give you something in exchange if you'd like; I have a need for a picture of Harry as described in this.)


	8. "You don't have to stay."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from wolves-have-no-king  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Angst, Violence, Abusive Relationship

“You don’t have to stay.”

Harry didn’t look towards Tom as he said it, and therefore couldn’t see the confused frown on Tom’s face.

“You’re the one that asked me to come over, Harry.”

“Well, that was before I overheard you talking with your friends.”

Harry still refused to look towards Tom. He was not sure if he was overreacting, but it had really hurt to hear Tom say those things.

“I’m not leaving.” Tom said, his tone decisive. Harry clenched his fists. He didn’t want Tom to stay but he didn’t want to force Tom to leave either.

“I really think you should.” he murmured darkly. Tom reacted by placing a hand on his shoulder an forcibly turning him so that they were facing each other.

“ _Harry_.” Tom’s voice was close to a hiss, managing to sound both warning and seductive at the same time. “What did you overhear?”

“You know exactly what you said!”

“Perhaps you could remind me?”

“Fuck off, Tom!” Harry bristled when he saw the smirk on Tom’s face. He roughly moved his shoulder to throw the hand off; Tom gripped him harder in response.

“Not until you tell me what your problem is, _dear_.”

“Oh, so we’re doing pet names now?” Harry asked with a half-choked laugh. “I’ve got one for you. _Asshole_.”

“I haven’t done anything; you asked me to come over and then you ask me to leave. Make your mind up already, I’m tired of playing around.”

“That was before I overheard you.” Harry protested. “And playing around? You dare accuse me of playing around? After what _you_ said?”

“You keep accusing me of saying something but you refuse to tell me what I said; of course I think you’re playing around. You’re getting close to dangerous territory, Harry.” Tom warned.

“Or what?” Harry spat.

“Oh, just you wait and you’ll see.”

“Don’t you dare threaten me!”

“You asked for it, _darling_.”

Harry barely had time to react before Tom’s hand was slowly choking him. He could only stare at Tom with wide eyes full of fear, to shocked to react.

“I really don’t want to do this.” Tom said, his tone deceivingly soft. “I’m afraid you’re not leaving me with any other choice, Harry. Not when you behave like this. If you had only kept your mouth shut, this would not have to happen.”

Harry scrunched his face up. He could feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Then suddenly the pressure against his throat lessened. He opened his eyes, the confusion in them obvious.

“Never do this again, okay?” Tom asked. Harry could do nothing but nod.

He could live with Tom using and abusing him; just he got to _live_.

And what Tom didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.


	9. “Shit are you bleeding?!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Blood Mention, Humor

“Shit are you bleeding?!”

Tom looked at Harry with an expression of pure horror. There was definitely blood coming down the side of Harry’s head; the confused frown that the green-eyed boy gave him at his question only made the situation worse.

Harry was bleeding and _he didn’t know_.

It was all of Tom’s worst fears rolled into one. Almost. Not really. He hated not knowing a situation and he didn’t want Harry to be hurt, or _die_ , but it was not that high on his admittedly small list of fears. Definitely in the top five though. He couldn’t think clearly currently because Harry was _goddamn bleeding_.

His eyes were as glued to the blood making its way down Harry’s cheek. As if he watched it in slow motion, Tom looked on as Harry lifted a hand to touch a spot on his head. The fingers came back sticky with blood.

“I am, aren’t I?” Harry asked, looking at the blood as if the red colour mesmerized him.

Tom would never admit out loud that he was in fact, very much so, freaking out. How could Harry be so calm when the very _thing keeping him alive was leaking out of him_?

“I can fix this.” Tom said decidedly, stubbornly, and mostly to himself. Harry raised an eyebrow at him, a sure sign that he had been louder than he thought.

“Go ahead.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just…” Tom looked around stupidly. He needed a towel to press against the blood source. Yes, that would be the first step. With something to do in mind, he conjured a towel to press against the wound.

He could see that Harry wanted to say something, but chose not to with amusement in his stupidly green eyes. Tom had never felt any negative emotions when looking at the green eyes that were the shade of the killing curse before now; Harry was bleeding and his eyes were the shade of the _killing_ curse.

“If you die, I will bloody murder you.” Tom swore as he pressed the towel harshly against the wound. Harry winced, but otherwise seemed occupied trying not to laugh.

“Tell me you didn’t take a bludger to the head.” Tom continued, as he mentally ran through a list of things that could have harmed Harry without Harry apparently realizing.

“I did not take a bludger to the head.” Harry answered obediently. “I did run into one of the armors on my way here though.”

“15 points from Gryffindor.” Tom answered, annoyed with Harry’s obvious carelessness. Who manage to run into and armor and get a head wound?

“Hey!” Harry protested. “Misuse of prefect privileges!”

“You just confessed to running in the corridors and disturbing school property.” Tom pointed out. He removed the towel from the wound to check if it was still bleeding.

“I guess…” Harry mumbled. “You could just fixed the wound with a spell, you know.”

Tom blinked stupidly. He had forgot because Harry being hurt stressed him out.  
“And you didn’t tell me earlier because…?” he asked as he proceeded to clean the wound with a non-verbal spell.

Harry grinned unbashfully at him.  
“And miss up on having the dreamy Tom Riddle up close?”

“We’re dating, Harry. You can have me up close all you want. Preferably without any head wounds next time.”

“And maybe without any clothes?” Harry suggested, wigging his eyebrows in an overly flirty manner. Tom couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend’s dramatics.

“If madam Pomfrey clear you, then yes. Otherwise you’re on bed rest.”

“Clear me for what?” Harry asked, the confusion obviously written on his face.

“A concussion.”

“But..! Hospital wing!” Harry complained.

“Maybe you shouldn’t run the next time you’re late.”

“Can you at least kiss it better before you abandon me to the horror that is the hospital wing?”

Tom sighed fondly and indulged his stupidly clumsy boyfriend with a kiss on the cheek, before dragging him along to the hospital wing; Harry’s protests going unheard thanks to a well-timed _silencio_.

At least their relationship would never get boring.


	10. 5-10 sentences: Werewolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Werewolf Harry, Dark Harry

Harry looked down at the healed scar on his arm; it was red and irritated, as well as a constant reminder of what had driven him here. He had been bitten, and he knew that the so-called Light side did not want werewolves; Remus’ misery was an example of that. Hence he was here, at Riddle Manor and telling his story to the Dark Lord; whom looked a lot more like Tom Riddle from the diary than like the snake monster from his fourth year, which would have been nice if it wasn’t so distracting.

“Say that I let you stay here… What will you do for me?” Tom asked - because it could not be Voldemort with that face; although Harry knew that they were the same person, separating them made it easier and he needed to make it easier.

“Whatever you want.” he offered, making himself appear more desperate than he actually felt. He regretted his choice of words immediately but it was too late to take them back.

“And if I want you? You on my side in the war, your mind, your soul, your body…” Tom trailed off and leered at him seductively.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes to collect himself. Killing curse green snapped open as he gave his answer.  
“Then I’m yours; yours in war, in mind, in soul, and in body.”


	11. 5-10 sentences: Wine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Time Travel AU, Master of Death Harry

Tom raised an eyebrow at the red liquid in Harry’s wine glass; it did not look like wine except at first glance. It was another odd thing to add on his growing list of oddities regarding Harry; a list that he had started when they first got to know each other a month ago. Other notable things were the pallor of Harry’s dark skin, the glow of his emerald green eyes, and his surprisingly fast reflexes. Tom couldn’t help but feel as he was living a cliche from some Muggle YA novel as he connected the oddities in his mind.

“Harry… you would have told me if you were a vampire, yes?” Tom asked and took a sip from his own wine glass, which definitely contained wine and nothing else. Harry responded with a chiming laughter; like the melodic sound of bells but with an undertone as if the bells were hit with bones. Tom had to blink away the clear image from his mind; it was the most curious picture and did not match Harry’s personality at all.

“While I can agree that I’m no longer human, you should not take me for a vampire.” Harry answered with a too-wide smile. “Master of Death would be more fitting. In all honesty, I abhor vampires and their immortality.”

“Then why are you drinking blood?”

“It is yours; I’m humoring myself. In another lifetime, you took mine by force; in this, I’m drinking yours without permission.” Harry answered, the amusement in his voice and smile not quite reaching his eyes; the picture it made was enough to make Tom shiver, and regret that he asked.


	12. “So can you let me out again?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Voldemort Won, Captivity, Pet/Owner relationship

“So can you let me out again? For good this time?”

The question lingered almost ominously in the air and killing curse green looked up at Voldemort expectantly. Time seemed to stop as Voldemort deliberated the answer; Harry was almost too afraid to hold his breath.

He had been a prisoner under Voldemort’s care since Greyback brought him and his friends to Malfoy Manor; Harry had sacrificed himself to save his friends, but this was far from the situation that he had expected.

Voldemort should have killed him, but instead he found himself healed and imprisoned in a golden cage; a golden cage in Voldemort’s office. The cage was expanded to have space for a bed, a semi-private bathing area and a bookshelf with books that Voldemort had chosen especially for him.

He was kept as a dress-up doll, almost. Voldemort would transfigure him a new outfit out of his clothes each morning; each more luxurious than the other. Perhaps he was more like a pet; only receiving the food that he ate out of Voldemort’s hand and silenced by spells whenever he got too brash or outspoken. He had even been on the receiving end of stinging jinxes more than once for perturbing behavior that he couldn’t help - such as panic attacks - but surprisingly nothing more extreme.

The only time he had been allowed to leave the cage was when Voldemort decided to give him a haircut; it had been uncannily intimate and left Voldemort looking strangely at him for long periods afterwards.

It was how well Voldemort was taking care of him that had prompted him to ask; Harry had been on his best behavior for weeks, preparing for this moment. He could still remember the first months; how he had exhausted himself by refusing Voldemort’s care and demanding to know what happened to his friends; to Hogwarts; to magical Britain. He had no idea how long it had been since then; time seemed to flow differently in captivity and Voldemort was surprisingly unwilling to taunt him with information.

“Do you truly believe that you have earned the right to leave your cage, Harry?” Voldemort asked at last, his tone not as much incredulous as it was astonished; fascinated. Harry could do nothing but nod in response.

“Perhaps…” Voldemort mumbled to himself, more perplexed now than anything. Harry was not sure how he knew as Voldemort rarely expressed any emotions; it was like he could sense it deep inside his bones. If he thought about the feeling long enough he almost felt convinced that the ability to sense it had always been there, but their proximity had made it grow in strength. Of course he had theories, all built around horcruxes and prophecies and curse scars, but he was not ready to accept that as truth.

“I do reward good behavior, my Harry, and you have behaved exceptionally lately.” Voldemort begun, no longer mumbling to himself. “Of course, I’ll only let you out on certain conditions.”

“What conditions?” Harry asked carefully, quickly adding on “Sir?”, afraid of upsetting Voldemort when he was so close to freedom.

“You will not leave my side unless I give you permission to; in which case you will be accompanied by Nagini and a Knight of my choice. You will not seize anyone’s wand; not even if they offer it to you unless I’ve allowed it. You will share my bed and accept my acts of affection without protest.”

_Acts of affection?_ Harry opened his mouth to refuse before he remembered himself.

“Shall I call you master while I’m at it?” he asked in jest, unable to stop himself. Voldemort’s thin lips slowly took the shape of a truly unsettling smile.

“An intriguing suggestion, Harry. I would not object against it, in fact I will encourage it. Should I take it as you accept my conditions?”

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself; he should not have suggested it even i jest. In the end only one thing mattered; accepting would mean a sort of freedom.

A bigger cage; a longer leash.

“Yes.”


	13. “All your friends are dead. Everyone who has once known you has passed away. I’m the only one you have left.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Voldemort Won, Captivity, Pet/Owner relationship, Melancholia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of “So can you let me out again?"

“All your friends are dead. Everyone who has once known you has passed away. I’m the only one you have left.”

Harry continued to stare unseeingly out at nothing, not reacting to Voldemort’s taunt. He had taken to melancholia as one took to an old friend; in uneasy periods that became longer until they were inseparable.

Life as Voldemort’s pet was better than life had been as the Dursleys’ slave, but a century could not be compared to a decade. His freedom had not changed since he first obtained it; he had to keep to Voldemort’s or Nagini’s side, he only had a right to a wand for as long Voldemort let him which was rarely, and he had to share Voldemort’s bed.

The acts of affection lingered, filled with emotions that they never spoke of. Harry could not help but crave the attention that Voldemort gave him; he starved for it during the periods that it was withheld from him. He could pride himself on not being a victim of Stockholm syndrome, but he could not say that he had not been conditioned to what Voldemort wanted from him.

He really was nothing more than a glorified pet; a stray that had been taken in against his will and learnt to adapt to the whims of his owner.

A stinging jinx hit him as a punishment for his extended silence. Harry only reacted by turning his head towards Voldemort; killing curse green eyes frighteningly blank.

Voldemort sighed and collected Harry in his arms, carrying him as a parent would carry a child. Harry did not put up even the token protest.

“I will find you the Resurrection Stone if you so desire, my pet.” Voldemort promised as he carried Harry towards their bed.

“Don’t.”

Harry’s hoarse voice spoke up; green eyes wet with tears stared up at Voldemort.

“Don’t don’t don’t don’tdon’tdon’tdon-”

“I will not do anything that upsets you.” Voldemort interrupted the incoherent string of words. Harry immediately quieted down; Voldemort pressed a kiss against his forehead.

“Sleep, my love. We can visit their graves in the morrow.”

Harry obediently closed his eyes.

Melancholia might be his dear friend, but Voldemort was his owner, his lover and his caretaker.

Voldemort was the only one he had left that cared for him.

Even worse, Voldemort was the only one left that he cared for in return.


	14. “Listen, you can’t just keep shoving people off the sides of cliffs.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (asexualsiriusblack)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Minister!Tom, Married

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't stop taking prompts, just forgot about posting them here.

“Listen, you can’t just keep shoving people off the sides of cliffs.”

Tom took one last look at the dying body lying at the bottom of the cliff before he turned towards his husband of five years.

“It’s worked so far,” he pointed out, and stepped away from the cliff edge.

“You’re the Minister. Someone’ll see a pattern of politicians opposing you ending up at the bottom of cliffs.”

“Ah, but that’s why you’re Head Auror, Harry,” Tom answered with a shark-like grin. He stepped closer to his husband and gripped Harry’s upper arms.

“You’re not gonna shove me off the cliff if I resign, are you?” Harry asked, not sounding as if he were joking. Tom gripped his arms harder.

“Try me, dear husband.”

Harry responded by apparating them home. Tom did not let go as they landed, ready to apparate them to another cliff if Harry tried to resign from the position that kept him safe.

It wouldn’t do if the papers found out that the Minsiter shoved the Head Auror of a cliff. Not to mention that it would be a shame to lose his husband.

Harry wasn’t more important than his position as Minister though.


	15. “Darling I love you, more than I can ever express in words…. But please stop teaching chickens necromancy.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from crackmonkeytrash  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Boredom, Established Relationship

“Darling I love you, more than I can ever express in words…. But please stop teaching chickens necromancy.”

Harry had always assumed that Voldemort would come to regret their immortality, but he never expected the man to get creative with the boredom. Not to mention that he felt slightly offended; as the Master of Death, he should be the one teaching chickens necromancy, not Voldemort.

“Then give me back my candle-making supplies,” Voldemort absently answered as he directed the chickens into formation for a summoning ritual. Harry scrunched his nose at the thought of having their shared house smell as wax and impossible scent combinations again; it has finally been completely aired out after years of lingering. He’s not sure if the headless chickens running around their living room are any better; why they can’t keep their head when the failed summons kill them is beyond him.

“I guess I’ll just shower on my own then…”

At least sex is still a guaranteed way to distract his lover from the multiple of projects. Harry took his shirt off and let it drape over Voldemort’s shoulder before heading to the bathroom.

The sound of a vanishing spell told him that they were finally chicken-free, and that he would be joined in just a second. He already had plans of teaching bunnies necromancy, partly as revenge, and partly for his own entertainment.

But first, hot, steamy shower sex.


	16. "Mine."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Canon Divergence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely writing meme created by bigjellymonster, working from the concept "Voldemort/Tom said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine."

Voldemort said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“ **Mine**.”

Harry had heard the word before, by a variety of people in different contexts, but none of those times affected him like hearing Voldemort say it now. When he first realised that his scar was home to a Horcrux, he should have at least considered that Voldemort could have the same information before he walked towards his death. Instead he was taken by surprise as Voldemort didn’t raise his wand to utter the killing curse, but instead raised his hand to grip Harry’s throat.

Having the word whispered into his ear before the pull of apparition was never among his expectations.

“Not yours,” Harry spit at Voldemort’s feet as they land. He doesn’t try to look around, too busy meeting Voldemort’s red eyes in the most horrible staring contest that he has ever participated in.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Harry,” Voldemort smiles. “You’re mine, you’re part of my soul.”

Harry finds himself at a loss for words as the chokehold is released, and Voldemort instead caresses his cheek almost lovingly. He feels sick, but there’s nothing he can do about it.

He’s without his wand, at Voldemort’s mercy.

“Mine,” Voldemort repeats. Harry closes his eyes.

He has lost their staring contest, and he has lost the war.


	17. "You."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Voldemort Won

Voldemort said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“ **You**.”

Harry freezes in the middle of a step. He takes a few seconds to make sure that it is indeed him that Voldemort is talking to before slowly turning around, a pathetic try at an innocent smile on his face. There’s really no other person Voldemort could have meant, as there’s no other person currently trying to sneak out of Voldemort’s bedchambers.

“Me?” he asked anyway, unable not to.

“Come here,” Voldemort demands. Harry swears quietly to himself as he obeys; he has no other choice but obeying. It’s all Dumbledore’s fault, for sending him undercover into Voldemort’s fortress.

He has no idea why the former professor wants him to assassinate their leader, but since his parents agrees with Dumbledore’s views, Harry finds himself in this situation. He bows in front of Voldemort, back straight and bent at the waist.

“You may rise.”

Harry does so, slowly. He keeps his back stiff, unable to relax now that Voldemort is looking at him.

“What business do you have in my bedchambers?”

Harry stumbles for an answer, until the worst possible things come out.  
“I’ve come to sleep with you?”

“Then why are you sneaking?”

“Surprise?” Harry asks. It comes out more like a squeak than he would’ve wanted to.

Hours later, when he’s laying exhausted and drenched in sweats next to Voldemort, he still don’t know why Dumbledore sent him there, but he wonders if he can get away with ‘death by sex’ as an assassination plan. He definitely wants to spend more time in Voldemort’s bedchambers.


	18. “You killed me!!”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Pyrites/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Vampires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pyrites/Sanguini a.k.a sangrites is my new OTP, and if you're interested in getting into it, you should read the fics I've posted, or just come talk to me.

“You killed me!!”

Sanguini was close to laughter as he looked at Pyrites’ indignant expression; it reminded him of his own turning, though Pyrites had gotten more of a choice than he ever had. It was rare to see such an indignant expression decorating Pyrites’ face, and he took great joy in being the cause behind it. He would have preferred other circumstances, but it was too late for that.

“ _Almost_ killed you,” Sanguini corrected easily. “The complete exchange of blood is what makes people turn into vampires. You said you wanted to be turned, so I turned you, after asking for explicit consent.”

“I thought it would be a simple bite, not that I would be sucked dry. There’s awfully little known about vampires,” Pyrites admitted reluctantly. “And you rarely talk about it.”

“Immortality is not all it seems to be. I hope you’re happy with your choice.”

“I’ll be young longer, and stronger than mortality and magic can make me,” Pyrites answered, suddenly confident.

“Should I feel used?” Sanguini could not keep himself from asking, though he managed to keep a dry tone, making it seem more like a joke than the insecurity that it was. He thought that their relationship was real, but what if- what if- …he couldn’t even finish the thought.

“I confess to wanting to spend more of my life with you than a wizard’s life span would have allowed me.”

Sanguini could not come up with an intelligent answer; he looked fondly at Pyrites’ grey hair and wrinkled face. He’d been scared when he had watched Pyrites age from 40 to 70; not scared for Pyrites’ ageing but scared that what they had would be lost. He had felt ashamed of his own body - forever stuck in his 20s.

Some of the colour had returned to Pyrites’ face, and some of the wrinkles had smoothed out, but there was no denying that Pyrites had aged well even before being turned. Sanguini was still selfishly happy with the knowledge that Pyrites wouldn’t age any more from now on.

He had quietly suffered with the knowledge that Pyrites one day would die for 30 years, and now that suffering was finally over, although not completely gone. Their immortality was fickle, but he hoped Pyrites would see it as a blessing, and not the disguised curse that it was. He wanted nothing but seeing Pyrites happy.

“All this time, and you still can’t say that you love me,” Sanguini teased. He felt completely smitten, as if his heart had been penetrated by love once more. It was a luxurious feeling, one he once had felt unworthy of.

“I have all the time in the world to say it now,” Pyrites smiled as he brought Sanguini closer for a kiss. _I love you_ was said in the space between their lips. It didn’t need to be said any other way.


	19. “You’ll become accustomed to things quickly.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (asexualsiriusblack)  
> Pairing: Pyrites/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Vampires, Sanguini Raised Harry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of “You killed me!!”  
> Reference to my 30-day challenge

The problem with turning a 70-year old to a vampire is that they’re already accustomed to how their body and their life is supposed to work. Sanguini is in a constant state of worried amusement for the first weeks, in contrast with the words he told Pyrites after the turning and their subsequent make-out session.

> _“You’ll become accustomed to things quickly.”_

Perhaps if he hadn’t done his best to suppress everything that happened after his own turning, he wouldn’t have told Pyrites something that quickly turned out to be very wrong.

A 70-year old should apparently not be gifted with heightened strength or senses. The only good thing is that Sanguini is not alone in his amused suffering; Beau is sharing it with him. Of all times for his adopted son to visit, this was perhaps the best possible time.

“Did I just see Pyri accidentally lifting a door off its hinges by opening it?” Beau asks, from where he’s leaning against the wall next to Sanguini.

“At least you’re not the one having sex with him,” Sanguini sighs. He had really liked that bed… The new stamina is appreciated, of course, but give an old man more stamina and remove his need for daily sleep, and you get a heightened interest in sex.

“Papa!” Beau complains, dark cheeks warming up with blood. In his thirties and still embarrassed by his papa; Sanguini couldn’t be more proud.

“Your cologne is awful!” Pyrites suddenly yells from another room, resulting in Sanguini and Beau laughing as if there’s no tomorrow. Really, there’s nothing as amusing as an old man with vampire powers…

Sanguini feels so in love with his adorable old man, and he’s happy to be able to share the amusement with his son. Life is extremely good sometimes.

The sound of something breaking brings him back to reality.

“I’m sorry, passerotto mio, but I need to rescue Pyri from himself,” Sanguini says before hurrying towards the source of the sound.

Beau’s laughter follows him.


	20. "Horcrux."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Time Travel AU

Tom said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“Horcrux.”

The light in Tom’s eyes as the realisation dawned was unsettling, and Harry wished nothing more than being able to flee in that moment. This had not been part of the plan - he was supposed to travel back in time to destroy the Horcruxes after their creation, not be found out as one.

“You must be mistaken,” Harry answered, but it did not sound convincing even to his own ears.

“What I don’t understand is how,” Tom mumbled, thinking out loud. He stepped closer to Harry until their body heat started to mingle in the space still left between their bodies. A long-fingered hand came up to move Harry’s hair away from his forehead and caress his scar.

“How can you be a keeper of my soul when I only met you three months ago?”

“I don’t know,” Harry lied, and tried to step back only to be stopped by Tom gripping his arm.

“Did I ever tell you that I can read minds?” Tom formed the question as a statement. His nails dug into Harry’s skin. “Legilimens.”

Harry could feel Tom enter his mind before the spell was said, and it made him think it had been a mere afterthought on Tom’s part. He already knew that Lord Voldemort could perform legilimency wordless and wandless; it was no surprise that Tom could do the same.

The thought turned into his downfall as Tom followed it to a sea of memories, all connected to the Lord Voldemort of his time.


	21. "Tonight."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Harry on Voldemort's side

Voldemort said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“Tonight.”

Harry thought he would get more time to mentally prepare himself for what they had to do. He thought they would wait at least a week. He felt unprepared as Voldemort looked at him, a rare smile of excitement making the Dark Lord look more unsettling than usual.

“Can’t it wait?” he asked, though he knew it was useless.

“Have you changed your mind, my Harry?”

“Of course not,” Harry felt a need to redeem himself, though he wasn’t sure why. “If you say tonight, then we’ll do it tonight.”

“Good boy,” Voldemort praised him. Harry both hated and loved how he reacted to Voldemort’s praise. It made him feel dirty and worth something at the same time.

“I look forward to your performance,” Voldemort continued, as if Harry hadn’t felt pressured before. He would do his best to hear Voldemort’s praise again.

He would make his own Horcrux tonight, and tie their souls together for the rest of eternity. Everything to make Voldemort proud of him.


	22. Person A wants to have their first kiss but person B keeps avoiding it for a silly reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Pyrites/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Blood Drinking, Kissing

Pyrites could not say that he minded being a living buffet for Sanguini, but there were times - like now - that he questioned their relationship. It was far from platonic since he first agreed to letting Sanguini drink from him, but it had yet to turn into something sexual, and he wasn’t sure if he could assume that it was romantic. They didn’t like each other most of the time, or rather Sanguini seemed to be against everything he stood for, but they were still friendly enough. It was a strange bubble of not having anyone else, and therefore attracting each other yet pushing each other away.

A moan escaped his lips as Sanguini finished drinking from the curve of his neck. Pyrites turned his head to catch Sanguini’s lips in a kiss, only for the vampire to ignore him in favour of lavishing kisses onto his chin. It was long since Sanguini’s avoidance of lip kisses stopped being obvious to him.

“Come here,” Pyrites tried, and angled his head to catch Sanguini’s lips in a kiss. It would be one thing if Sanguini wasn’t interested in kissing him at all, but since hours could be spent on his chest, collarbones and throat, that wasn’t the case.

“Not now,” Sanguini avoided his attempt by latching onto the skin of his neck to leave a mark.

“Why do you refuse to kiss me?” Pyrites gently pushed Sanguini away so that they could look at each other. Sanguini looked like a sad puppy for a mere moment before collecting himself.

“Your breath.”

“What about my breath?”

Sanguini moved his glance to the side as Pyrites patiently waited for an answer.

“It always smell strongly like garlic,” Sanguini admitted at last. “And I’m a vampire. I don’t want to take any risks.”

Pyrites couldn’t help but feel relieved that the reason turned out to be something silly; he had been thinking that Sanguini only kissed him because the feelings of arousal the blood brought with it.

“You should have said something. A simple spell can take care of it.”

“Use your magic and kiss me then.”

Pyrites was more than happy to comply.


	23. “I tried…I really did…”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (asexualsiriusblack)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Angst, Time Travel AU

“I tried… I really did…”

“Obviously you didn’t try enough.”

Harry looked up at the biting words. He had never expected comfort from Tom Riddle, but he had still expected _something_. It would have been enough if his tries were acknowledged, but failure wasn’t part of Tom’s vocabulary. Their relationship didn’t matter when Harry had nothing to show for it.

“Like you could do it better?” Harry demanded to know, his tongue cloaked in fire and poison. He would not be seen as defeated for being unable to this one thing; he had a long list of impressive achievements backing him up already. There was no real need for additions - _so what_ if he couldn’t do this one thing after multiple tries? His blood, sweat, and tears had already gone into it; he would appreciate to keep his soul.

“This is not a question of what I can do, _Harry dear_ ,” Tom replied, his lips shaped in a cruel smile. Unlike Harry, Tom took to ice as a fish took to water. His demeanour was colder than Antarctica. “It’s a question of what you apparently _can’t_.”

“And I _can’t_ help that it’s _impossible_ to make Merrythought smile! This was a horrible bet to begin with.”

Tom didn’t look impressed or even affected by his reasoning; instead he raised an eyebrow at the childishness. Harry shrunk into himself; while Tom didn’t enjoy failure, he did enjoy winning, and Harry had just given up their bet.

“I expect you to meet me outside the Room of Requirement after dinner. _Don’t be late_ ,” Tom warned, and walked away without giving Harry one last look.

Harry couldn’t remember loathing anyone as much as he loathed Tom Riddle in that moment. Of all things they could bet on, did his only family heirloom have to be the prize?


	24. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry for whatever I did just please stop yelling!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from merrinpippy (arrowgays)  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Voldemort Won, Master/Slave relationship, Angst

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for whatever I did just please stop yelling!”

Harry didn’t dare look up at Voldemort from where he was curled together in the corner of their shared bedroom. Since Voldemort realised that he was a Horcrux and kidnapped him, Harry had been broken and rebuilt over and over. He could no longer imagine any scenario in which he would upset his master, yet that was what he had succeeded in.

The yelling ceased at his begging, and Harry finally looked up, his vision obscured my tears. Voldemort looked back, red gaze unimpressed by the show of emotion.

“I don’t take well to liars, Harry.”

Unsure how to best prove his loyalty, Harry uncurled himself and crawled towards his master. He stopped when he was close enough to kiss Voldemort’s bare feet.

“Punish me as you see fit, master,” Harry asked, and closed his eyes as he awaited in best scenario a slap, and in worst a crucio. Neither came. Harry opened his eyes again to see Voldemort studying him curiously.

He barely noticed when Voldemort invaded his mind, and even after he did, Harry made no tries to get him out. His mind belonged to his master.

“Perhaps I was hasty,” Voldemort slowly admitted. “You were not at fault as I had been lead to believe.”

“I would never betray or upset you,” Harry promised, with new tears gathering in his eyes. He bent down to lavish Voldemort’s feet with kisses again.

Locked away far inside his mind, the original Harry Potter screamed.


	25. “Help! Help me please! Please, please!“

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (acciotomriddle)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Attempted Murder, Muggle!Harry, Minister!Tom

“Help! Help me please! Please, please!“

Harry clung to the shirt of the first person that he ran into. There were footsteps following him, tears competing against each other to see which could run fastest down his cheeks, and a knife protruding from in between the wrinkles of his over-sized jumper. The surrounding fabric was slowly soaking up the blood, and the jumper plastered itself to his skin best it could.

The stranger looked down on him with obvious distaste before taking in the whole picture, dark eyes going from the tear-tracks on his cheeks to the knife sticking out of his chest; which as far as Harry had tell, had miraculously missed his lungs and heart.

“You’ll have to repay me,” is all the warning the stranger gives before they’re suddenly no longer on a street in the outskirts of London, but in a bustling hospital. Harry can’t tell if he’s delusional from blood loss or if they just teleported, but he clings harder to the helpful stranger. It doesn’t take long before they’’re noticed, and he gets the impression that the stranger is someone to respect.

Everything happens quickly after that. A woman dressed in green robes - the kind of robes that Harry wouldn’t expect outside a fantasy book - comes up to them, and waves a stick while ushering them to another room. Everything after that is more stick waving, mysterious lights, and a disgusting drink that Harry almost suspects to be an actual potion. Whatever it is, it helps.

Then suddenly the room is empty, with the exception of him and the stranger, and Harry is left with one important question.

“Are you a wizard?”

“Muggles,” the stranger mutter to himself, before meeting Harry’s eyes. “You’re a clever one, admittedly.”

“I’m Harry,” Harry says, because what else should he say to the _wizard_ that just saved his life?

“Riddle,” the stranger answer. “You owe me.”

“I don’t have any money…” Harry mumbled, embarrassed. That was the reason he got stabbed to begin with - the robber didn’t believe him, and his body would be easier to search if he was dead.

Riddle smiled, “That won’t be a problem, Harry.”

Harry got the split-second impression that it would’ve been preferable to bleed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a longer version of this prompt! It's posted on here, as Strange Day.


	26. "Bond."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Horcrux!Tom, Horcrux Hunt

Tom said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“Bond.”

Harry blinked and tilted his head to the side, “We have to do what now?”

Even if he had heard and understood the first time, it definitely needed repetition. He could not see how their discussion about the next step to take in their Horcrux hunt could be connected to bonding.

“We need to bond, Harry,” Tom started to explain in the slow tone that might be used for a child. “So that our connection will be stronger and we’ll find Voldemort’s Horcruxes faster.”

“What kind of bond do you have in mind?” Harry asked, and couldn’t help but slightly fear the answer that Tom would give him.

“The purest bond is the one of marriage,” Tom paused to let the words sink in. “And every marriage need to be consummated.”

“But… Ginny?”

The words sounded flat even to Harry; he hadn’t seen Ginny as something besides a sister for a long time. His crush had never had time to be reciprocated before Tom sought him out to take down Voldemort together. This was the first time he even thought of Ginny in that sense since he grew closer to Tom.

“Ginny won’t be any problem, darling,” Tom promised. Harry didn’t want to know what that meant.


	27. "Connection."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from bigjellymonster  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Horcrux Connection

Voldemort said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“Connection.”

Even after the word ended, Harry could hear it echo through his head, an omen that everything would go downhill from here on. He hadn’t thought things could be worse - he had just seen his godfather fall through the Veil! - but he had been proven wrong. Voldemort - the Dark Lord - had access to his thoughts. Harry could feel his skin paling in fear; the enemy would know all his inner thoughts, would be present for meetings with Dumbledore, would- would-

Don’t worry your pretty little head, Harry.

Voldemort was in front of him, but his lips hadn’t moved. Harry hadn’t even considered that the Dark Lord would be able to use telepathy with him.

“Do you think I’m pretty?” was the first thing to slip out of his mouth, instead of the many valuable questions such as how or why.

Before Voldemort could answer, Dumbledore appeared by Harry’s side, and then the duel started.

We’ll talk later, Voldemort promised. I look forward to it, Harry.


	28. "Change."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Obscurial!Harry

Voldemort said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“ **Change**.”

No matter how much he tried, Harry couldn’t resist the order. This was what he had been trained for since the graveyard, when Voldemort first realised that he was an obscurial. Harry had been so close to fleeing together with Cedric’s body after Prior Incantatem when a Death Eater had stunned him upon Voldemort’s orders.

That was three years ago. Harry’s 18th birthday had just passed and Voldemort had deemed his training complete, which was why they were now in the middle of Diagon Alley.

Harry tried to fight against the monster inside of him, but unlike him it had grown to appreciate Voldemort’s company, _Voldemort’s touches_. Harry would never stop feeling dirty, even if it wasn’t technically his body that had been used. Except it was. The obscurus was a part of him, a part of him that he hated but still was responsible for.

A part of him that drowned out his mind as it started destroying Diagon Alley. Harry could only cry as Voldemort praised the monster inside him.


	29. "Why?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Character Death

Voldemort said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“ **Why?** ”

Harry truly couldn’t answer as he looked down at Voldemort’s bleeding body. He felt close to tears as he looked at the monster - the man - that he had never wanted to kill. He could still see Tom Riddle in the face looking up on him.

This wasn’t something he had been trained for, but it was what the population expected of him, expected of the Boy-Who-Lived. He had never wanted to kill anyone, but he couldn’t just sit idly as Voldemort started a war.

“You know why,” Harry sighed. He fell to his knees, and awkwardly embraced Voldemort’s body.

“It’s not too late for remorse,” Harry tried, although he truly didn’t know if that was the case. They wouldn’t be here if not for all the Horcruxes being destroyed; but perhaps there was still some way to heal Voldemort’s soul?

“It’s far too late,” Voldemort was no longer holding himself up, his body limp in Harry’s arms. “I’m old. Not as old as I wished, but old nonetheless.”

Harry found himself unable to answer. He manoeuvred Voldemort’s body so that they were looking at each other once more.

“Greet Death as an old friend,”  Harry smiled through his tears. He were mourning not the monster in his arms, but the brilliant man that Tom Riddle had been. He could feel Voldemort’s pulse grow weaker.

“Goodbye, Tom.”

Harry bent forward to place a kiss on Voldemort’s forehead. The Dark Lord was dead.


	30. "Leave."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Voldemort/Harry
> 
> Tags: Graveyard Scene

Voldemort said one word that sent chills down Harry’s spine.

“ **Leave.** ”

The word wasn’t said to him, but to the Death Eaters that were surrounding them. Harry could only watch on as the masked wizards disappeared one after one, leaving him alone with Voldemort in the graveyard. It would’ve been one thing if he was free, but as he was still tied to the grave of Tom Riddle Sr., the situation felt hopeless.

Voldemort had been demonstrating that he could touch Harry without burning when he suddenly gave the order. Harry had been distracted by the pain that coursed through his veins; he had no idea what Voldemort could possibly have reacted to.

But he had a feeling that he soon would get to know.

Voldemort sent away Wormtail, who had lingered, with a snarl and well-aimed hex. Harry couldn’t feel sorry for him, the traitor deserved that and much more. He wished that Pettigrew would’ve stayed though, as soon Voldemort’s attention was on him, and him only.

“What do you want?” Harry demanded, feeling braver than he truly was.

“What I’ve always wanted,” Voldemort’s lips twitched into something that most closely resembled a parody of a smile. “You, Harry Potter.”

“You want me dead,” Harry couldn’t help but point out. “Why not give me a public death?”

“Because, dear Harry, I want you alive.”

Harry’s question died on his tongue as Voldemort spelled him asleep.


	31. “Please…Don’t go…Don’t leave me.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (acciotomriddle)  
> Pairing: Percival/Credence
> 
> Tags: Angst, Abuse Mention

“Please…Don’t go…Don’t leave me.”

Credence had latched onto Graves’ cloak as a child might latch onto a parent to not get lost. If Graves left now, he would have no choice to return to the orphanage, to Mary Lou’s whip-happy hand. He’d have return sooner or later in either case - where else would he go? - but Credence couldn’t help but want to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

“You can come with me, but I have to go,” Graves answered, and gently removed Credence’s fingers from his cloak. Credence immediately hugged himself after he no longer could latch onto Graves, almost shrinking into himself as he did. He had never considered being able to go with Mr Graves before, and the offer were oh so tempting, but-

“I need to return for Modesty,” Credence whispered. He would’ve left with Graves if he could, but he couldn’t leave his youngest sister with Mary Lou. With Chastity following Mary Lou’s beliefs, Modesty would take the abuse if he weren’t there. He couldn’t do that to her, he couldn’t save himself and offer her up as a new victim.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” Graves promised. Credence nodded timidly; Graves always kept his promises. Tomorrow was so far away though, and he wanted to stay in the safety that Graves gave him right now.

“Bring something sweet?” Credence asked, as he tried to find a silver-lining in being left alone much earlier than he wished.

“I will,” Graves touched his shoulder fleetingly, and Credence straightened up for the short moment that Graves touched him. He shrunk into himself more than before as soon as the hand left him.

“Goodbye, Credence.”

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.


	32. “Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (acciotomriddle)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Established Relationship

“Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.”

Tom looked up from over the top of his book, and raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Harry’s statement. He slowly took in Harry’s blood-drenched clothes and shaking hands.

“Darling, I’m the last one to judge in this case,” Tom started as he marked his place in the book and put it aside. “Now, I assume you need help getting rid of the body?”

Harry nodded, and took Tom by the hand to lead him through their house. The deeper they went, the more curious Tom got about who Harry could’ve gotten rid of, and why.

At last they entered the dining room. Tom couldn’t help but look at Harry curiously. The room was dark, but lit up as they walked inside.

On top of the dining room table laid the body of Fenrir Greyback.

“Harry?” Tom prompted as he let go of Harry’s hand in favour of examining the body up close.

“He was taunting me about turning Remus and hurting Bill and I- I just exploded and then he was dead and I didn’t know what to do-”

“-so you brought him here and left him on the dining table?” Tom turned from the dead body to look at Harry, no emotion on his face.

Harry nodded, and green eyes darted to the dead body before they glued themselves onto Tom’s face.

“I’m proud of you, Harry,” Tom smiled reassuringly as he praised his lover. Harry had truly done a remarkable job of murdering Greyback; Tom couldn’t wait to see what Harry would be able to do with some training.

“Just help me get rid of the body,” Harry begged, though his back straightened up at the praise.

Tom’s smile turned dark as he started making plans for Harry’s future, while taking care of the dead body with the ease of an experienced murderer.

They would’ve so much fun together.


	33. “Please refrain from shooting her, we need her for later.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Torture Mention

“Please refrain from shooting her, we need her for later.”

Tom reluctantly lowered the gun that had been aimed at Ginny Weasley’s tear-streaked face. He knew that they needed her - he had been the one to organise the plan - but oh, if she didn’t deserve to die for ever laying a hand on his Harry.

“If I can’t shoot her, can I cut her?”

Harry looked up from where he was cleaning his own gun to give Ginny a considering glance. She made begging noises through the gag in her mouth, but they went unacknowledged.

“No visible cuts. She’ll need all fingers and toes for the plan.”

“Promise me that I can shoot her the moment she’s no longer of any use,” Tom said as he put away his gun and instead picked up a dagger. While he couldn’t rid Ginny of her fingers, he could cut up her skin pretty bad. If they had any medical equipment, he would’ve been able to perform some surgery too - remove her uterus for example - but alas, she would risk dying if he performed any surgery with the tools at hand.

“Of course, dear,” Harry gave Tom a quick smile before once more concentrating on cleaning his gun. “You can do whatever you want with her the moment we’re done.”

“And then I can do whatever I want with you?”

Harry laughed, “Always, dear, you can always do whatever you want with me.”

Tom smiled; that was what he liked to hear. But for now, he had a certain redhead to cut pieces of.


	34. “As the wise Scooby Doo said; “Ruh Roh”.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from merrinpippy (arrowgays)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Scooby Doo, Slytherin's Locket

“As the wise Scooby Doo said; “Ruh Roh”.”

“Who said what?” Tom asked, not bothering to look up from the Sneakoscope he was modifying. He sincerely doubted his boyfriend’s sanity at times, especially when Harry said things like this.

“Scooby Doo? The talking Great Dane that solves mysteries?”

“Must’ve been after my time,” Tom answered with an elegant shrug. Harry just stared at him.

“You’re in the 90′s right now, not the 40′s, this is not after your time.”

“But why would I waste my time on talking dogs?”

“Really, you should be more concerned about the “Ruh Roh” part.” Harry leaned back against the couch pillows with a sigh. Tom froze, and finally turned to give Harry all of his attention.

“What did you do?”

“Now he cares!” Harry exclaimed with a dramatic gesture. “I may or may not found something that belongs to you.”

“We’re in the Black home. What could you possibly find that belongs to me in the Black home that I don’t know of?”

“A certain locket?”

Tom dropped the screwdriver he had been poking the Sneakoscope with, as he was trying to figure out how it would work if it was made with Muggle materials instead of magic, among other things.

“You found Slytherin’s locket? In the Black house that has been abandoned for years?”

“Kreacher has it. Regulus Black apparently betrayed you - the other you.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying it,” Tom started with a slight grimace of disgust on his face. “But “Ruh Roh”.”

Harry would’ve laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. Admittedly, he laughed anyway, and got a screwdriver thrown at him.

Hopefully Regulus had never told anyone about Horcruxes, because it was bad enough that the damned house elf had one.


	35. “At the moment, it seemed like a good plan, obviously it was not.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Pyrites/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Sanguini is Ridiculous

“At the moment, it seemed like a good plan, obviously it was not.”

Pyrites looked at Sanguini with clear disbelief in his eyes.

“You cannot be serious,” Pyrites started, exasperation heavy on his tongue. “You’re far too old to have ever thought this a good plan.”

“Then a wine-fuelled impulse. Whatever the reason, the problem remains,” Sanguini answered, and reached for the bottle of wine that stood between them on the table. Pyrites considered taking it from him, but it wouldn’t do much good. Who knew how much wine was already in Sanguini’s system, and the vampire could easily take the bottle back or find a new one.

“You not only stole a book from my Lord, you made sure to look him straight in the eyes as you removed the valuable book from his library. That is not a plan nor an impulse.”

“In my defence,” Sanguini smiled humourlessly and Pyrites wished nothing more than to strangle him. “I was simply taking revenge for the time your dear Lord-child decided to steal my greatest possession from me.”

“And what’s your greatest possession?” Pyrites asked with a wary sigh, sure that it would be something stupid as Sanguini didn’t have any possessions of great personal worth.

“You.”

Pyrites found himself at a loss for words, something that rarely happened to him and less so in Sanguini’s company.

“You should give him the book back,” Pyrites mumbled at last. “And don’t call him Lord-child to his face.”

“As you wish, vita mia.”


	36. "I never got to say goodbye."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from merrinpippy (arrowgays)  
> Pairing: Regulus/Barty
> 
> Tags: Angst, Second Person POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used this prompt to write an epilogue to [Fated Touch](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7183247) so you should go read that first!

You stare at the letter that Regulus’ house elf just handed you, afraid to open it. You had just seen him last night, you had just been making love to him less than 24 hours ago. The letter seem so innocent but there’s a feeling of dread in your stomach. The yellow and black of your dorm feel too joyous and it makes you sick.

For a moment you consider not reading the letter, consider living in unknowing bliss until Christmas comes and you’re forced to join the Dark Lord for the duration of your break - the Dark Lord you only joined to protect Regulus. You can’t do it. The letter is burning you, begging you to open it.

At last you give in, thankful for the emptiness of your dorm.

_My dearest, Barty,_ the letter starts, and you can already feel tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

_If you’re reading this, I’m no longer with you. I am - was - will always be - happy with you. Although our circumstances were hard, you were my lover, my soulmate, and that means the world to me._

_I wish you would’ve been awake when I said my goodbyes, I wish I could’ve stayed on path._

_I wish you can find it in you to forgive me._

_I risked my life because I love you, and I want to give you the future you deserve, but if you’re reading this then I have failed not only you but us. I hope more than anything that someone will continue what I started in the future._

_I can’t tell you what it is, I value your life too much. Just know that you were in my thoughts the whole time._

_Forever yours,  
Regulus_

By the time you reach the last line, the parchment is decorated with wet spots from where your tears have landed. You remember holding Regulus in your arms during the train ride from Hogwarts only months earlier, you remember how he cried into your chest as you whispered words of reassurement into his hair. You remember thinking that Regulus took on too great a burden and wishing you could share it with him.

You remember promising yourself to always be there for him, to always protect him, and now it’s too late.

The letter gets crumpled in your hands as the tears continues to fall from your eyes.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you curse under your breath, wishing that you could see Regulus once more if only to punch him in the face for leaving you like this. He should’ve waked you up, he should’ve told you as he left you at Kings Cross that morning.

The thought suddenly crosses your mind, that he left you at Kings Cross that morning and didn’t tell you goodbye. You didn’t think much of it then, happy getting as many kisses as possible before the train left the station, but now you finally understand his reluctance to utter the words.

He took away your only chance to say goodbye, likely because of his own selfish reasons. You have never considered Regulus selfish before now - the boy thought he had to carry the world. You always had to be selfish on Regulus’ behalf, and this is where it got you.

“I never got to say goodbye,” you sob, your face pressed against the crumpled letter, your tears smudging the last trace of Regulus left in the world.

You wish he would’ve told you what he died for, you wish he would’ve waited until you could’ve been there to help him, you wish that he didn’t leave you a letter and a burden.

You had never realised how heavy the world is on your shoulders, until that’s the only legacy that Regulus left behind.

Selfishly, you consider confronting James, demanding to know if Regulus told him more than you, but you don’t want to share your mourning. You don’t want James to mourn Regulus. You know that you should tell Sirius, or Walburga, or someone, but you want to keep something of Regulus all to yourself.

If it has to be Regulus’ death, then so be it. It’s something that’s completely yours.

If only it wasn’t.


	37. “If only i could make you believe you deserve everything.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from merrinpippy (arrowgays)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Depression

“If only i could make you believe you deserve everything.”

Harry had long since stopped reacting to the defeated impatience in Tom’s tone. He had long since stopped reacting to anything - that was the thing about depression. It was hard enough to leave the bed most days; believing Tom was not even imaginable.

“The Dursleys ruined you.”

Harry reacted at that, turning his head to focus his dead stare on Tom.

“I’m not ruined,” Harry protested, his tongue heavy in his mouth. He wasn’t. The depression was just a setback. Sometimes, just sometimes, being around Tom made it worse. He wished it didn’t.

“You’re not supposed to be like this, Harry.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He wasn’t sure where the sudden anger came from, or who it was aimed at. Tom for not understanding, himself for being depressed, the world for not being better.

“If you have energy to fight, you have energy to leave the bed,” Tom said, annoyance clear on his face.

“That’s not how it works,” Harry protested. He buried his head in the pillows so he didn’t have to look at Tom.

The dark monster that was depression curled tighter around him, making his stomach twist uncomfortably. He didn’t want to lie in bed the whole day, he didn’t want to feel like the world would be better if he was dead, he didn’t want to feel like Tom didn’t love him. It didn’t mean he could do anything about it.

“Then tell me how it works.”

“I don’t know, Tom,” Harry mumbled. The anger had escaped him like the air escaping from a balloon, and he was left with a tiredness that weighed down his bones. “I don’t think I would be depressed if I knew how it worked.”

Tom sighed, as tired of their fight as Harry felt.  
“Do you want tea?”

“Please,” Harry closed his eyes. He didn’t want this. He would drive Tom away if the depression didn’t leave. If only there was a magical cure…

“I still love you,” Tom ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. “I won’t stop loving you. I just want to understand.”

It didn’t drive the depression away, but it felt easier to breathe.


	38. “You’re sitting on a throne of bones, staring at a cold meal."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from partofforever (soughs)  
> Pairing: Pyrites/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Starvation, Blood Drinking

“I’m not sure why you think that I want to die,” Sanguini said, avoiding Pyrites’ searching eyes.

“You’re sitting on a throne of bones, staring at a cold meal,” Pyrites answered, the poetic way to say that Amadeo was depressed feeling wrong on his tongue but fitting for the circumstances. He wasn’t aware that vampires could starve themselves until he spent time with Sanguini. He didn’t think that Sanguini would ever succeed in starving himself to death. He didn’t think that Sanguini would ever succeed in dying at all.

“I’m taking care of myself.”

The lie held no weight behind it; Pyrites could see through it before the sentence had been completed.

“Then drink from me,” he offered, tilting his head to the side to showcase the pale skin of his throat. Sanguini’s pupils dilated before dark eyes turned away from him, fixating on the scenery outside the window instead.

“I don’t need to.”

The second lie fell even flatter than the first one. Pyrites dragged a hand through his hair, dishevelling it in a rare show of frustration. He could of course do Sanguini a favour and kill him, but he found that he didn’t want to. He enjoyed the vampire’s company - or he used to. He wanted to enjoy it again.

“I can see your ribs, Amadeo,” Pyrites sighed. Sanguini’s shirt hung lose on his bony frame, the light shining through the fabric and highlighting the thin body underneath.

“Maybe you should leave,” Sanguini still didn’t look at him.

Pyrites silently conjured a knife. He hadn’t wanted to, but he would not have Sanguini waste away. He calmly cut his palm and held out his hand in Sanguini’s direction.

The vampire’s nostrils flared, and slowly the dark eyes focused on him once more. There was a moment where the world seemed to stop, and then suddenly Sanguini was on his knees in front of Pyrites, licking his palm clean.

“I hate you, ma raison d’être,” Sanguini whispered, and exchanged the licks for kisses.

“Then you wouldn’t speak French, mon plaisir quotidien.”

“Vita mia,” Sanguini kissed Pyrites’ wrist before biting into it. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“You wish,” Pyrites answered, his smile impossibly fond. He’d do whatever it took to keep Sanguini - to keep Amadeo - from ever becoming a skeleton.


	39. “The stars gives me life - the constellations are filling my soul.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from crackmonkeytrash  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Immortality

_What’s the secret to immortality_ , Tom once asked. Harry hadn’t answered that time, still coming to terms with his role as the Master of Death, still finding his place in the past. That felt so long ago now, as he laid next to Tom on the grass of the Quidditch field. They weren’t anything, but they were still something. It was an experience that Harry wished would never end.

“The stars gives me life - the constellations are filling my soul,” he revealed quietly, as his eyes looked for Sirius among the constellations. He had to allow himself some nostalgia, some mourning for the time he couldn’t return to.

“Immortality can’t be that simple,” Tom answered. “Can it?”

“Its not simple,” Harry mumbled, and moved his head so that it rested against Tom’s stomach instead of the ground. “It’s a burden to carry the universe, and immortality is the gift the universe gives you in return.”

“I don’t think that’s the immortality I want,” Tom moved a hand to play with Harry’s hair. “Do you?”

Harry smiled bitterly, more open with his emotions as Tom couldn’t see his face.

“No,” he answered. _But it brought me to you_ , he didn’t say.

His eyes finally focused on Sirius. The star seemed to wink at him.

Maybe it wasn’t the immortality he wanted, but it was the one he had, and he would do his best to deserve it.


	40. “Why can’t you believe that I love you?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from crackmonkeytrash  
> Pairing: Pyrites/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Established Relationship, French

Pyrites had asked many questions under the course of their relationship, and he had gotten many answers. Yet, the one question that he kept asking himself whenever he looked at Sanguini remained unanswered. He had his own reasons for not asking it out loud, but he couldn’t let himself obsess over it any longer. Not when his mark had grown darker with each day, not when he didn’t know how much time they had left together.

Thankfully - or perhaps not - wine gave many opportunities for unwise questions.

“Why can’t you believe that I love you?”

He could feel Sanguini’s eyes on him, burning into the side of his head as he stubbornly looked away. His inebriation could not compare to that of someone who had been drinking wine for centuries.

“Everything about you - even your mere existence - make it seem like you barely tolerate me,” Sanguini answered at last, after the silence between them had stretched out much like a cat sleeping in the sun.

“Why can’t I do both?” Pyrites questioned as he turned his eyes to meet Sanguini’s inquiring glance. He felt like the rat who had caught the cheese but gotten stuck in the trap.

“Why do you love me, Philemon?”

“Why do anyone do anything?”

“To live, I would imagine.”

“Then that’s your answer,” Pyrites said, more to his glass of wine than to the person of his affections. “I love you to live, and I live to love you.”

“I can’t imagine any more dreadful existence,” Sanguini gave a dry chuckle at the joke that wasn’t meant to be funny, or meant to be a joke at all.

“Do you believe that I love you now?” The words fell from Pyrites’ tongue before he could stop. Perhaps he should not drink any more wine.

“I believe you insane, mon amour, but I believe in insanity brought by love.”

“Je t’aime,” Pyrites sighed. “Je t’aime, je veux être avec toi pour toujours.”

“Je t’adore,” Sanguini mumbled. “J’ai besoin de toi. Veux-tu m’épouser?”

“Amadeo, I think you’ve had too much to drink,” Pyrites said, unable to answer the question the way it was meant to be answered. Not when the mark on his arm grew greater in contrast as they spoke.

“As have I,” he added when Sanguini gave no answer. He could not blame Sanguini’s intoxication and forget his own.

“Wine is a mistress that we should get rid of,” Sanguini answered at last, making it seem like the unanswered question had gone forgotten.

Pyrites would not admit to feeling a sense of relief.


	41. “I can finally see that you’re as fucked up as me.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Unhealthy Relationship

“I can finally see that you’re as fucked up as me.”

Harry could admit to himself that he had looked up to Tom since they first met; it was hard not to. Tom was intelligent, charming… handsome. He made living seem so easy, made everything seem easy. Harry had been envious - of course he had. His anxiety kept him from reaching his full potential like Tom had done.

Yet Tom had reached out to him, had made him feel special, had played with his heartstrings as if they were a lyre, and had helped him fight his anxiety while worsening it at the same time. Harry had been blinded by the attention, had viewed Tom with the same rose-tinted glasses as the rest of the world.

But not anymore.

How could he possibly see Tom the same way ever again, when Tom was standing in front of him, clothes covered in blood and a manic smile on the otherwise never upturned lips? Harry felt sick to his stomach, but he couldn’t adverse his eyes. He couldn’t stop looking at the monster that had been hiding underneath the charm.

“As fucked up as you, Harry? Don’t make me laugh,” Tom answered, his words accompanied with a joyless laughter. Harry felt like the sound would haunt him.

“No one can be as fucked up as you.”

The words were like a dagger in his chest, but Harry didn’t offer up any protest. Maybe Tom was right; he was the one who didn’t run away at the sight of blood, he was the one that stayed and started a conversation. Worst of all, he wouldn’t be able to answer why if anyone asked.

“What can I do?” Harry asked. He had come to terms with being drawn to Tom even if he shouldn’t be. Maybe they were both fucked up, and maybe he was the worse of them, but maybe it was okay.

As long as Tom kept looking at him, maybe it was okay.


	42. “There’s no future, there’s no past."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from partofforever (soughs)  
> Pairing: Percival/Credence
> 
> Tags: Healing

“There’s no future, there’s no past,” Credence sighed, his eyes glued to Percy’s ceiling. “There’s only the present, the only thing yet to be ruined.”

Percy found himself staring at Credence, who lied next to him in his - their - bed. There was a wrinkle between his eyebrows - the beginning of a frown - as he considered the younger face, with the sharp angles and the gaunt cheeks. Credence had filled out some in the months since they started living together, but not much. Percy wished to feed him more, but there were only so many times that he could entice with pastries.

“No future?” he repeated. It was some time since Credence last fell into one of his moods, and Percy thought he knew why it happened now but he didn’t want to ask in case he was wrong.

“We’ll burn on the stake,” Credence answered, and confirmed what he had feared. Ideas that he had worked hard to get rid of had found their way back into Credence’s thoughts.

“The fire will do nothing but tickle,” Percy reassured. “Magic protects us.”

“Does it really?” Credence asked, and finally turned his head to meet Percy’s eyes.

“If magic fails,” Percy promised. “I’ll be there to protect you.”

Credence’s lips twisted into something that might have been a smile.

“I hope you keep that promise.”

Percy dragged Credence’s body closer, and held him protectively. He would do everything to keep that promise, if he so had to fight with tooth and nails.

“I will.”


	43. “I’m sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Soulmate AU, Tom is Voldemort's son

“I’m sick of losing soulmates, so where do we begin?”

Harry avoided looking at Tom as he waited for an answer to the perhaps too philosophical question. He could still remember Ginny dying in his arms, he could still remember Cedric taking a curse for him. How would he ever be able to forget when their respective soulmate tattoos were scars burnt into his skin?

He hadn’t expected to have any soulmates left, and if he did, not to find them in the middle of a war, on the side of the enemy.

Tom had been the one to seek him out, the one to willingly give up secrets to gain trust. Harry was reluctant to admit that he did trust Tom, that he did trust Voldemort’s son, because of the lives he had been able to save, and because of the ink on Tom’s skin.

They had had something resembling happiness, but then it started slipping out between their fingers as if it were water. Now they were the central point of the war - one wrong move, and too many lives would be lost.

“We end the war,” Tom answered, as if that had ever been the question. They would need to end the war no matter what, it was not only their lives that were in danger, not only Harry’s soulmates that had died.

“Unless you know how, that’s no starting point.”

Tom smiled, something that Harry in other scenarios loved, but which this time put him on edge. Nothing good could come out of that smile.

“By killing my father. By killing Voldemort.”

Harry felt how his lips moved into a smile uncannily like the one Tom was wearing. They would be able to end the war, and be together without blood staining their relationship.


	44. “Really not sure what I expected when I met you in jail - of course you’re a murderer and not just a drug dealer."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Drugs

“Really not sure what I expected when I met you in jail - of course you’re a murderer and not just a drug dealer,” Harry sighed in frustration and buried his head in his hands.

Having dark skin and possessing drugs had sent him straight to jail after his dear cousin ratted him out - hilarious, considering Dudley had been his dealer. Having withdrawals in jail had been far from entertaining, and he had been lucky that Tom had been willing to take care of him. Of course, he never questioned where Tom got the drugs, as long as the only payment was a blowjob or two. Really, he should’ve been suspicious over how easy it was. He should’ve questioned that the other inmates left him alone after he started spending time with Tom.

Instead he had spent far too much time high, reading books backwards, staring at the sky, getting lost in the way Tom’s spine stood out.

They had gotten out at the same time, and he suspected Tom had had something to do with it, but he didn’t complain. He didn’t use to complain. Why should he, when Tom wanted him, and when Tom had drugs?

That was of course before he came home from grocery shopping to find Tom cleaning up after a murder. He could’ve passed it off as his imagination, if not for how obvious it was - blood in the sink, murder weapon on the table, a file with a crossed out name, a bag with money. It did not make him feel better that it had been a job, that Tom had been hired to get rid of someone for good.

“As long as you know that you can’t leave me, darling,” Tom answered, casually sitting down next to him on the too nice couch. “If the cops show up, I’ll know it’s because of you, and I promise to take you down with me.”

“I need weed,” Harry mumbled. Of course he’d never rat Tom out, of course he’d never leave Tom, but it would still take some time for it to sink in that his lover murdered people for a living.

“Whatever you want,” Tom turned his head to the side to kiss him. “Everything to keep you happy, to keep you mine.”

Harry didn’t say anything about how he would’ve been Tom’s even without the drugs, no matter how fucked up their relationship was, how fucked up their circumstances were.


	45. Smut + Starsons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (acciotomriddle)  
> Pairing: Regulus/Barty
> 
> Tags: Smut, Canon Compliant

The shadows on the ceiling start to change as the first morning light filter through the window. Regulus watch them with tired eyes, torn between regret as his decision to wait for Barty to come back resulted in another sleepless night, and excitement as the sun mean that Barty should be back soon. There’s a book resting on his lap, but the words merged into endless lines of black hours ago and he hasn’t looked back since. Instead he has been watching the shadows play, and let his anxiety entertain his thoughts. As the seconds drag out into minutes, his anxiety wakes up again. It hugs his rib-cage tightly and whisper scenarios in his ear. He shouldn’t have stayed up; sleep keeps the anxiety at bay. It’s far too late for regrets now.

His eyes starts to close, but the sound of the door to their shared room opening is enough for him to sit up straight, wide awake once more. It’s a lot louder than usual, and he can’t help but worry that someone else than Barty will be the source of the sound. His worry is soon extinguished as Barty drag him up from the armchair and straight into a kiss. Regulus let a surprised whimper escape as Barty grip him tighter than usual. He ignore the book that fell to the floor.

“Did the mission go well?” Regulus ask after he finally manage to break the kiss, his lips left bruised by Barty’s passion. He doesn’t want to know any details of what Barty had to do to please the Dark Lord this time, but something must have happened.

“It was brilliant,” Barty say before their lips are meeting once more. Regulus give in to the kiss, answering it with the same passion as Barty has. His hands find their way into Barty’s hair as Barty’s hands find their way underneath his shirt. Regulus push his body closer as one of Barty’s hands drag over his right nipple, teasing it and making it harden. His cheeks feel warm, and his pulse thrum through his head. Regulus let one hand slide from Barty’s hair and down his back, until it find the edge of his trousers.

Impatient, Barty vanish their clothes with a spell and walk them closer to the bed. Regulus give a soft sound of surprise as his naked back hit the sheets. Barty climb up on the bed, and sling one leg over his waist to settle on top of him. Regulus reach up to entangle his fingers in Barty’s hair and drag him down into a new kiss.

Barty mumble a spell against his lips, and Regulus more know from experience than sees that a bottle of lube is summoned. It’s confirmed when something cold is poured over both their members. Barty takes his penis in hand to make him slick. Regulus lets one hand slid from Barty’s hair, down over his shoulder and back, and then finally sneak it between them to help slick Barty’s penis up in turn. The already hard flesh hardens more as he moves his hand up and down over the shaft.

“Love you,” Barty moan as his hand leave Regulus’ penis. Regulus remove his own hand to let Barty rock against him unhindered.

“Love you too,” Regulus answer with a gasp, as he start matching Barty’s movement. They rock against each other frantically, their slick shafts pressing against the bare skin of their stomachs. His skin feel warm, and he force Barty closer. They no longer kiss properly as their lips move against each other, their breathing ragged and pupils dilated.

Regulus still don’t know what has gotten into Barty, but he doesn’t mind as their bodies press against each other, their movements faster and harder, and his mind overwhelmed with pressure.

Barty comes first, and leave spots of come over Regulus’ hip bone. He kiss Regulus’ throat, suck and bite the skin, with the intention to leave marks. Regulus relax into the pillows as Barty’s hand closes around the warm flesh of his erection, and practised movement finish him off.

They spend a moment lazily kissing, breathing the same air, before Regulus clean them off with a simple flick of the wrist, and Barty drag the covers over them. They maneuver with ease so that Barty is lying on his back in the middle of the bed, Regulus against his side with his head on Barty’s chest.

“I’m glad that you came back,” Regulus mumble into Barty’s skin, the last of his anxiety sliding away as sleep finally take over.


	46. “Is this threesome sex only or do you want to go to a movie?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from merrinpippy (arrowgays)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Establishing Relationship

“Is this threesome sex only or do you want to go to a movie?”

Harry looked expectantly over at Sanguini, who unlike him and Tom did not seem out of breath at all. He couldn’t help but be curious about how much stamina a vampire actually had, and if they could have sex once more in case Sanguini said no to the movie. He did hope that their relationship would be more than sex though.

“It’s been some time since I last experienced a movie,” Sanguini mused, his cheeks red from blushing at Harry’s invitation rather than from their activities. “I would be honoured, but does that mean that we are…?”

Harry couldn’t contain his smile as the millennial old vampire trailed of in insecure embarrassment. Tom reacted merely by rolling his eyes, as if it was obvious what the answer would be.

“Sanguini, we would not had invited you into our bed to begin with unless we were interested in a relationship,” Tom explained, surprisingly patient for someone that had been initiating fistfights with Sanguini only a couple of months before. “It’s ultimately up to you, but we both want you.”

“Definitely want you,” Harry chimed in, and stretched over so that he could place a peck on Sanguini’s cheek.

“I’m interested,” Sanguini admitted. “But we should perhaps watch a movie first.”

Harry couldn’t stop himself from making a celebratory fist pump, an action that resulted in surprised laughter from both Tom and Sanguini.


	47. “I’m not scared of dying - I’m scared of what comes after.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from partofforever (soughs)  
> Pairing: Pyrites/Sanguini
> 
> Tags: Love Confessions, Character Death

“Immortality is a surprisingly fickle thing,” Amadeo answered the unasked question with a dry laugh, one hand trying to keep his heart in his chest. Philemon looked as unamused as expected, and Amadeo couldn’t fault him.

“I’m not scared of dying,” he continued, in hope of making Philemon feel better about the situation in which they found themselves. “I’m scared of what comes after.”

“What do you fear will come after?” Philemon asked, his lips set in a tight line as he waved his wand over Amadeo’s chest, spell after spell trying and failing to heal.

Amadeo turned his eyes heavenward as he considered the question. He had wanted death for so long, but now that he had it within his reach, he found himself with no idea what to do with it.

“Judgement,” he finally answered. “I fear judgement from the family that I abandoned, from the God that I betrayed. From everyone I’ve harmed.”

“You don’t fear hell?”

Amadeo laughed again, and it was dryer now. He pretended that he couldn’t feel tears gathering. He could feel his life slipping between his fingers.

“I didn’t until now,” he confessed, and turned his eyes back towards Philemon. “I think, that perhaps… perhaps, I fear leaving you most of all.”

“Don’t you dare confess your love as you’re dying,” Philemon answered, but the joke fell flat. Amadeo smiled nonetheless. He couldn’t let his last moment with Philemon be a sad one.

“I love you.”

“I know,” Philemon sighed, and finally let his wand fall to the ground. “I love you too, against my better judgement.”

Amadeo continued to smile, and closed his eyes as he let death embrace him.


	48. “The stars told me your name.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from partofforever (soughs)  
> Pairing: Percival/Credence
> 
> Tags: Domestic Relationship

_Quiet people have the loudest minds_ , Percy thought as he watched Credence sit in front of their fireplace. Dark eyes were staring into the flames, seemingly captivated by their movement. Percy wished that he could know what occupied Credence’s mind, especially as the enchanted knitting needles had stopped knitting; they had continued after Credence put them down as they were meant to do. For the knitting to completely stop, it had to be something serious.

He didn’t dare ask.

Percy thumbed the book resting on his lap, considered if he would be able to immerse himself in the Muggle murder mystery once more or if he should go into the kitchen to make them tea. Credence took the options away from him by carefully pulling on his sleeve.

“Yes?” Percy asked, an encouraging smile on his lips.

“You knew my name,” Credence said, the words quiet but clear enough to not be a mumble. “The first time we met, you already knew my name.”

 “The stars told me your name,” Percy explained. “And I knew I had to find you.”

He could tell that Credence was doubtful, but he patiently waited for the next question to be asked or for the subject to be dropped; whatever Credence chose, he would comply with.

“The stars?” Credence repeated at last.

“Have I told you about divination?” Percy asked. Credence shook his head slightly, the locks of his hair moving softly across his forehead at the movement.

Percy marked his place in the book and put it aside. He took Credence’s hand and entwined their fingers as he started explaining divination, and how he had been taught by a young centaur how to read the stars.


	49. “Will you feed me six pomegranate seeds?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from partofforever (soughs)  
> Pairing: Tom/Harry
> 
> Tags: Greek Mythology AU

“Will you feed me six pomegranate seeds?”

The question hung heavy between them as Harry watched Tom with green eyes full of expectations. A pomegranate lied between them on the table, waiting for either of them to reach for it.

“Do you want me to?”

Tom’s counter question seemed light in comparison, as if he thought the situation a joke. Harry’s lips thinned but his eyes darted to the pomegranate. Did he want to? He thought he did.

“Yes.”

He tried out the answer. It felt right in his mouth, and the look on Tom’s face made him think that it had definitely been the right one.

Six seeds, a promise and a contract all in all. If he ate them, he would have no choice but return, have no choice but spend half a year next to Tom. It amazed him how much he wanted that.

“You can’t back out now,” Tom warned, and fed him the first seed. Harry swallowed it willingly, as if he were starving and it was a five-course meal. Backing out was so far away from his mind that it wasn’t even imaginable.

“Feed me the rest,” Harry answered, and opened his mouth to await the second seed that would seal his fate.

Pomegranate seeds had never tasted this wonderfully before.


	50. “I don’t belong here.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Ron&Harry
> 
> Tags: Family

“I don’t belong here.”

Ron gave him the courtesy of not looking at him, but Harry could still sense that his best friend had heard him, no matter how quietly the words had left his mouth. He knew that he shouldn’t have said them, but seeing how different, how loving the Weasleys were when compared to his own relatives… Harry felt out of place.

“Mate, you’ll always belong here,” Ron answered, and slung one arm around his shoulders. “My family is yours too.”

Harry had no response to that, and they both pretended as tears weren’t gathering at the corners of his eyes. Instead of verbally giving his thanks, he leant into Ron slightly.

“So do you think that Fred will be able to trick mum that he got made Prefect?” Ron asked, effectively changing the subject. Harry couldn’t help but smile.

“Depends on if George managed to steal Percy’s badge for him or not.”

They laughed, and Harry felt like maybe - just maybe - he did belong there.


	51. “Are you afraid of being alone with me?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from leontina (acciotomriddle)  
> Pairing: Sanguini/Harry
> 
> Tags: First Kiss

“Are you afraid of being alone with me?”

Sanguini looked up from the dusty piano to meet Harry’s curious gaze.

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask that question?”

He swept the dust of the piano keys with a hand gesture, too quick for the human eye. The keys were left shimmering clean after the air from the movement dusted them off.

“I’m not avoiding your company; you’re avoiding mine,” Harry answered as he walked closer to the piano. Sanguini lowered his gaze to follow the rhythm of Harry’s footsteps.

“I’m not afraid of you,” he answered at last, and turned his eyes back to the piano. He pressed down the keys, and let Tchaikovsky’s Nocturne in C sharp minor fill the room. It echoed off the walls, creating the illusion of an eerie setting.

“That’s not what I asked,” Harry pointed out, his voice soft and kind. Sanguini didn’t falter in his playing, but moved over to allow Harry to sit down next to him.

“We’re alone now,” he pointed out as Harry sat down, slightly closer than he had expected. Their sides touched, were flushed against each other as much as his movement allowed for.

The start of rain could be heard over the music, and it picked up until it beat against the glass windows. Perhaps the eeriness was less of an illusion than first assumed.

“You would’ve left if I hadn’t said anything,” Harry answered. Sanguini’s fingers stilled for a moment, but were in movement again before the melody could falter.

“I don’t want to destroy you.”

The confession hung heavy between the sounds of the piano and the heavy rain.

“You can’t,” Harry promised. “Others have tried and failed.”

Sanguini turned his head slightly to the side, just enough to see that Harry was watching him, green eyes filled with something that he couldn’t presume to understand.

“I’m not like others.”

The room seemed darker suddenly, but the only light source had been floating candles since the very beginning.

“I know,” Harry’s lips twitched into a smile for a mere second, before they suddenly met his own in a kiss.

Sanguini let the piano music die out, as his hands left the keys to caress Harry’s face. They continued kissing to a backdrop of rain.

“This is why I was afraid to be alone with you,” he confessed as Harry took a moment to breathe.

“So you were afraid,” Harry teased, and kissed him again. Sanguini smiled against Harry’s lips.

He was still afraid, but for now he would let the kisses empty his mind.


	52. 3 sentences: Muggle AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from anonymous  
> Pairing: Barty/Harry
> 
> Tags: Math Tutoring

There are very few things in life that Harry would call the absolute truth, and they all seem to be related to each other; the absolute truth was that he’s extremely bisexual, horrible at math, and absolutely in love with his math tutor - Bartemius Crouch Jr, though the older man prefers to be called Barty.

To make this combination even worse, his mother had asked Barty to tutor him during the summer holidays; they were therefore alone in his humid bedroom, Barty’s chest pressed against his shoulder as the older looked over the math exercises that Harry had just completed, with Barty’s breath against Harry’s ear as Barty made small noises while correcting the exercises.

Harry felt awfully aware of the closeness - of how restrictive his shorts were against his hardening penis, and of the fact that Barty would have a brilliant view of the outline of Harry’s erection if his glance wandered from the exercises on the desk - and while Barty’s eyes never left the exercises, his hand found its way to Harry’s thigh, cruelly teasing just out of reach; Harry had thought math was horrible, but his math tutor was a close second.

**Author's Note:**

> Interested in sending me a prompt?
> 
> My writing blog is clarisselwyn.tumblr.com  
> I also take prompts on my mainblog; sangrites.tumblr.com


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